`*Faith*
Prologue - Edited Version
By: RogueBHS
Author Notes: Normally I'm not one for rewriting my stories, but in this case,, I've decided to make an exception. "Faith" is my "baby" as it were for the time being, and I keep having new ideas that don't fit in with the way I had originally planned this story out. As such, I'm doing a complete revision of my timeline, my varied notes, and of course, the story itself. As for the delay…lets just say I'm never again storing a story on a floppy disc. Too dang unreliable. :P
Notice: All metric values are an estimated guess by myself and my (now former) beta, Saturian Blonde, as I'm American, and unfortunately, American schools don't go into how to do a real accurate switch from Metric to the (heh) "American" measurements. Thank god for a Canadian beta or the numbers would be off even more!
Main Characters: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Sabine Kington (OC), Minerva McGonagall, Remus Lupin and others…like Voldemort for instance. ;)
Couples: Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Draco, Dumbledore/McGonagall (hinted mostly), Harry/Cho, Harry/Hermione, Lavender/Ron/Luna and others.
Full Plot Summary: Most would think that with the OWLs over and done with, and NEWTS not being taken until the next school year, that Harry Potter would have an easy 6th year. But when you add up the loss of his godfather, the weight of the prophecy, harder classes, girl trouble, and the ever looming threat of Voldemort and his followers…Not to mention a changing group of friends, Harry's 6th year may well be the hardest yet. Oh yes…did I mention being ladies man???? (*giggle*)
Prologue - "Summer with the Dursleys"
As soon as Vernon's car had pulled out of the King's Cross station, he started ranting about "those freaks" and the gall of them threatening him to take better care of Harry. After all, the boy got food and a roof over his head, as well as the "generous" donation of his son, Dudley's, hand-me-down clothing. What else could he want? Surely they didn't expect Vernon and Petunia to spoil the boy. He wasn't their son and it wasn't their fault that the boy's irresponsible parents were dead, having left him absolutely nothing of monetary value. Or so they thought anyway.
In the back seat, Harry Potter sat, his bottle green eyes staring out of the window, but not seeing anything in front of him. Instead, he kept picturing the faces of his real family whom he had left behind at the train station, wishing more than ever that he wasn't sentenced to weeks at his aunt and uncle's every summer vacation. But now, at least, he understood why he had to. It didn't make things any easier, however. After all, summer after summer since Harry could remember, he had been nothing but a slave to his "family's" whims. It made no matter to them that he worked himself to exhaustion in their yard, or if he burned his fingers numerous times cooking their breakfast. That was simply his place in their household and he should be accustomed to it.
The sad thing was, Harry was in fact accustomed to it. He was used to the insults and slurs about his parentage, and his scrawny frame. And it wasn't until his eleventh birthday he had realized why he had always felt he was truly different. It wasn't until his eleventh birthday he had felt that perhaps there would be more to his life than being the "chore boy" of the Dursley household or the "freak" from St. Brutus' who lived in Little Whinging. After all, finding out you're a wizard certainly isn't something that happens every day. And thankfully, in Harry's case, it wasn't every day that you found out the real reason behind your parents' death.
For the Potters, Lily and James, hadn't been killed in a car crash, as Harry's aunt and uncle had been so intent on telling him. Instead, their deaths had been at the hand of the darkest wizard of the age; Lord Voldemort. And the lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead wasn't a reminder of the fake car crash. That scar was what marked him as the only person to have ever survived the dreaded Killing Curse, and as such, as the famous "Boy Who Lived" in the Wizarding world.
And unlike what his aunt and uncle told the neighbors, Harry did not attend St. Brutus' School every year. Instead, he attended the same school his parents had; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And ever since his first year, Harry had the same best friends whom he couldn't imagine life at Hogwarts without. There was red haired, boisterous, always hungry, Quidditch obsessed Ron, who was Harry's first friend at Hogwarts. And it was Ron's family, the Weasleys, whom Harry considered his own surrogate family; a thought and feeling that was echoed clearly by the red-headed family.
Then there was Hermione. Bushy haired, buck-toothed, smart-as-they-come, level headed Hermione. Though thanks to a spell from the Hogwarts' nurse in the trio's forth year, Hermione couldn't really be called buck-toothed. She was easily the only constant Harry had in his life, and his real best friend, no matter how much it seemed otherwise. It didn't matter if he was saving the school from Voldemort, rescuing his godfather, or taking on a dozen or more of Voldemort's followers (Death Eaters), Hermione was beside him the entire way. Without her, Harry had a sneaking suspicion he might not have lived through even his first year at Hogwarts, much less through forth year and the Tri-Wizard Tournament. After all, she was the one who helped him learn all the needed spells.
And thinking of Hermione, he remembered their daring rescue of Sirius, Harry's godfather. Merlin how Harry missed him already. Sirius hadn't been dead a month, and Harry already felt as if a part of him was missing. Sirius was one of the few remaining links Harry had to his parents, and now, because of Harry's own naivety, Sirius was gone. Harry couldn't help but feel as if he was to blame, for it had been his decision to run off to the Ministry of Magic without trying to contact a member of the Order first. Granted it wasn't like he had a choice really. It wasn't his fault that Snape hadn't let on that he understood Harry's cryptic message that Sirius was in danger.
"Are you even listening to me boy???!!!!!"
The bellowed message from his uncle startled Harry from his thoughts abruptly, and his head turned away from the window immediately. "Sorry, Uncle Vernon." The words came automatically from Harry's mouth. "What were you saying, sir?" Though the respect wasn't' earned, Harry gave it anyway. He wasn't in the mood for a beating when they got back to Privet Drive, thank you very much.
Up in the driver's seat, Vernon's face turned a light shade of purple at the fact he had been ignored. "I said that you'll need to get your clothes washed as soon as possible. We're leaving for Marseilles, France in a week. And make sure to help your aunt. We'll be gone all summer, and there are things that need to be done around the house before we leave."
That wasn't a request, Harry was sure of it. But the fact that they were actually taking him with them on vacation? Since when did they do that? "Are you saying I'm going with you, Uncle Vernon?"
"Yes. Can't have those damned freaks saying we abandoned you all summer. Besides, having you with us means we won't have to shell out money for someone else to carry our baggage"
There was always a catch, Harry thought. He should have known it was something like that. After all, the Dursleys hated what they considered menial chores, and those were always the ones assigned to Harry unless company was coming. But at the same time, it would be a break way from Privet Drive. Speaking of which, he wondered if that would do anything to the blood protection he had to "revive" every summer. That meant Hedwig would have to go see Dumbledore soon. Oh well. She wouldn't mind. He doubted she'd get much use while he was gone anyway.
Oh great. What on earth was he supposed to do with Hedwig while he was gone? He doubted that Dumbledore or the Order had any use for her, much less the Weasleys. Hmm…Hermione might be able to. He'd have to dig out her phone number from his trunk to see if she could do him that small favor. After all, Hedwig was fond of Hermione. He could only imagine Hedwig's horror if she was subjected to the ruckus that Pig, Ron's owl, was used to making every hour of the day.
By the time that they had gotten back to Little Whinging, Harry had planned out exactly what he needed to do between now and the time that he and the Dursleys left for their vacation. And as such, the second the car stopped, Harry was out of it and had grabbed Hedwig's cage, as well as his trunk from the trunk ((A/N: LOL)) and was carrying it up the stairs, much to his uncle's dismay. After dropping his trunk at the foot of his bed, and setting Hedwig's cage on his desk, he unlocked the cage, letting Hedwig hop out onto his desktop with a hoot of relief.
Smiling briefly at his owl, Harry turned and unlocked his trunk, digging through it for some parchment, a quill, and Hermione's phone number. And at the bottom, right next to the piece of parchment with Hermione's number sat an old school robe, that was currently looking worse for wear. Any traces of happiness slipped away from his expression as Harry kneeled and gingerly picked up the robe, a soft tinkling sound of glass occurring with every little jolt. He glanced into the trunk, and pulled out a small bag he had once received some Honeydukes candy in, and dumped the pieces of a mirror from the robes into the bag.
He may have broken the mirror in a fit of rage, but perhaps Lupin could repair it…maybe even use it if he had any idea what happened to the other one. So, picking up the needed items, Harry walked over to his desk and sat down. After inking his quill, Harry frowned and sat there, lost in though for a moment before finally writing anything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear Professor Dumbledore,
I just though that you should know that the Dursleys plan on taking me on
vacation with them. I don't know what that might do to the protection you
recently told me about, which is why I'm writing. If there's any way you can let me know that its ok, I'd appreciate it.
Oh…and sorry about your office. But I'm not sorry for yelling or anything else. I'm not a kid, and its time that some people realized it. You don't take on the dark lord 4 times in 5 years and remain an innocent child.
Anyway, just let me know ok?
HJP
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After rolling up that letter, Harry set it aside and wrote another; this one much more difficult than the one to Dumbledore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Remus,
I'm sorry about what happened at the Ministry. I was stupid, and should have known better. Now thanks to me, you've lost the one best friend who could help you through the full moon. If you can see me, I've been thinking about something, and was hoping you could help. But the Dursleys are taking me on vacation in a week, so I won't be around until sometime right before school starts. I'm sending you a mirror that Snuffles gave me at Christmas. If you know where the other one is, maybe you can repair this one and use it.
I do want to see you before I go back to Hogwarts, so let me know if we can. Tell "Clumsy" hi…and Mad Eye too if you see him. Thanks.
HJP
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rolling up that piece of parchment a well, Harry wrote the names of the recipients on the rolls, then handed them to Hedwig, along with the closed bag with the pieces of the mirror inside. "Take one to Dumbledore and the other two things to Remus, ok Hedwig?"
The owl hooted, then after a gentle nip of Harry's finger, she flew out the window into the late afternoon sky, leaving Harry watching after her for a good few minutes. Then, with a sigh, he picked Hermione's phone number off the desk and walked down stairs, hoping his uncle might let him call her tonight. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he could hear his aunt in the kitchen, likely cooking up dinner, and the TV playing in the living room. And after pushing the door to the kitchen open, Harry could see Dudley in front of the television, one of his shows flickering on the screen, while Uncle Vernon's eyes were trained on his newspaper.
Moving closer to his uncle, Harry cleared his throat just loud enough to get Vernon's attention. "Uncle Vernon?"
Vernon's eyes stopped moving across the paper, then slowly he turned his head just a bit in Harry's direction. "What do you want, boy?"
"Well, since I know I can't take Hedwig, my owl, with me on the trip, I need to get one of my friends to look after her. But she's already gone for tonight, taking a letter to two people who needed to know about the vacation you're letting me go on. So…I need to use the phone to call a friend of mine. Her parents are mug…I mean, they're like you…they're dentists, and…"
Before he could finish, Vernon's eyes snapped to Harry. "Do what you've got to do, boy. Just don't take forever, and if its long distance, take even less time. Do you hear me?"
Fighting the urge to smile, Harry nodded. "Thank you, sir."
Again, the title wasn't earned, but he knew from experience that such things could mean the difference between getting what he wanted and having to suffer through a lecture or beating. So, after quickly saying he'd use the upstairs phone, Harry darted upstairs and skidded to a stop before the hall phone. Taking a deep breath, he reread the number, then dialed, hoping she'd be home.
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At the Grangers'
The phone was on its fifth ring when Hermione managed to finally get to it, and as such, was out of breath when she said "Hello?"
She heard a familiar laugh, then an equally familiar voice rang across the line. "Hey, Hermione. Its Harry…"
Unable to help it, she let out a shriek of delight, despite having seen him only a few hours ago. "Harry?!"
There was a pause, then his voice came back on the line. "Yeah, Mione. Its me." Just from his tone, she could tell he was smiling, and that was enough to make her ignore the nickname. "I know I talked to you at the station and all, but I need a favor if you're not going to be busy this summer."
"Of course, Harry. What do you need?"
"I kinda need you to keep an eye on Hedwig for me this summer…if its not too much trouble."
She froze, a million reasons for him sending Hedwig to her rushing through her mind, each one getting more and more dark and dangerous. So, without thinking, she asked, "You aren't doing something crazy are you? Cause if you are…"
"No, Mione…I swear its nothing like that," he said, quite effectively ending her short lived rant. "The Dursleys are taking me with them on vacation, and I can't just leave Hedwig here. I didn't think the Weasleys or the order could really use her, and since you don't have your own owl, I figured this would be the perfect solution for both of us."
One word stuck out in her mind above the rest, causing her to question him. "You're going on vacation Harry?"
There was the sound of a chuckle escaping his lips before he answered. "Yeah. To Marseilles, France of all places. I could be wrong, but I think Uncle Vernon got a big promotion at work and wants to show off a little."
Her eyes lit up at the mention of France, and she smiled. "Oh its great there, Harry. You'll love it. And of course I'll take care of Hedwig. She and Crookshanks seem to get along well, so that's not a problem."
"Well, she'll need her cage and food…both of which are here with me. Know of any way around that problem? I know you've got some owl treats, but she can't really live on those too well."
Frowning, Hermione paused. "I'll be right back Harry, stay on the line ok?"
She was already setting the phone down when she heard him say "Ok," and headed toward the living room where she knew her parents would be. Her father looked up when she entered, and smiled warmly. "What are you up to, honey?"
Flashing him the same warm smile, she glanced between her parents. "You both remember Harry, right?"
"Of course, dear," her mother answered, now looking up to Hermione as well. "What about him?"
"Well, he's leaving town, and needs me to watch his owl, Hedwig, but her food and cage are at his house. Is there a way we can go get them before he leaves?"
Mr. Granger thought for a moment, then nodded. "I'm off tomorrow afternoon if he'll be there. I can come pick you up here, then we can go together and pick up what you'll need to take care of his owl. That sound alright?"
Hermione nodded exuberantly, then gave her father a hug before bounding off to the phone, shouting a "Thanks, dad" over her shoulder. She scooped the phone off the table and put it to her ear again. "You still there, Harry?"
"Yeah, I'm here. Had to tell my uncle I was waiting for you to ask your parents permission. He doesn't like me being on the phone."
"He can deal with it. So, think you can be at home tomorrow afternoon?"
"I think so…why?"
"Well, Dad's off tomorrow afternoon and we can get Hedwig's stuff then if its ok. I don't think he or mom is off again the rest of the week. They normally take off a couple of weeks later in the summer for us to go do something."
"Tomorrow's fine, Mione. Uncle Vernon normally tries to work late during the summer to avoid being around me, so he won't be a problem. Hedwig's off delivering letters tonight, so she likely won't be back till about the time you get here anyway." He paused, then asked, "You do still have my address, right? I know I gave it to you a while back…"
She laughed softly. "Of course I have your address, Harry. I copied it into the address book my parents and I have after I got home so I wouldn't loose it."
He said something that sounded suspiciously like "should have known," before speaking louder. "I hate to do this, but I've got to go, Hermione. I'll see you tomorrow ok?"
She had barely said "goodbye" when the click of him hanging up echoed over the phone, causing her to frown as she set the phone back into the receiver. Those stupid relatives of his must have told him to get off the phone. It figured. But at least she'd get to see him tomorrow. And with that thought, she headed upstairs to read before going to bed.
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July 31st - Harry's Birthday
"This is my life
Its not what it was before
All these feelings I've shared
And these are my dreams
That I'd never lived before
Somebody shake me
'Cause I
I must be sleeping"
As the song played, Harry stood in the record store, eyes closed as he concentrated on the lyrics. The song had struck a cord with him when he had caught the last few lines as it played over the intercom system, and after a brief conversation with the man at the check-out line, Harry was set up with a pair of headphones. Having never been in a record store before, all of the equipment seemed unreal. He hadn't been aware that there was an area of the stores set up for you to listen to a CD before you bought it. Nor had he been aware of how expensive some Cd's could be. But thankfully, Remus had stopped by two days before the trip to Marseilles and given Harry a good deal of muggle money that had been taken out of his Gringotts account.
"Now that we're here,
It's so far away
All the struggle we thought was in vain
All the mistakes,
One life contained
They all finally start to go away
Now that we're here
Its so far away
And I feel like I can face the day
I can forgive
And I'm not ashamed to be the person that I am today" (1)
The song played again, this time over the headphones of his portable CD player back in the hotel as Harry lost himself in thoughts of the way he had been before the death of his godfather, Sirius. It had been hard, the first couple of weeks, dealing with his "family" as they prepared for the vacation and then settled in at the rather ritzy hotel in the middle of Marseilles, France. But now, the day before his 16th birthday, he was finally being able to fully relax. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had dropped off Dudley at a pool party being held by some kids he had met there, then headed off to some expensive restaurant that Dudley had refused to eat at when he realized what 'escargot' was. That left Harry alone in the hotel with nothing to do. He was absolutely forbidden from using the phone to call his friends, and as such, was missing them, one in particular, a good deal.
And while he couldn't be sure if it was just good timing or just luck, Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's phoenix appeared in a burst of flames, hovering over the foot of Harry's bed, startling him into a sitting position. With a huge smile, he hit the stop button on the portable CD player that was a bribe from Dudley, and ripped off the headphones before reaching out to stroke the feathers of the bird. Slowly, Fawkes settled onto the bed, and let out a few quavering notes of song, soothing Harry, and coaxing a small smile out of him.
"'Lo Fawkes. What's that you've got?" His green eyes fixed onto the large box that was tied to the Phoenix's leg, and he reached out, untying the knot of the rope, allowing Fawkes to move more freely. Glancing at the bird as it flew over to one of the chairs in the room and perched, he realized that he must be waiting for Harry to open the package. So, after picking up the pocket knife that Dudley had left on the nightstand between their beds, he opened the box, surprised to find many more smaller boxes and a few letters inside.
Settling back against the headboard of the bed, he pulled out the first letter, which was from Dumbledore. It was a birthday greeting, saying that rather than wait for Harry to return to England, he had decided to gather presents from Harry's friends and send them to him in France, figuring that he might need the comfort of knowing he was thought of on his birthday. Shaking his head at the professor's almost eerie fore-knowledge of so many things that went on in the world, Harry set aside Dumbledore's letter and pulled out the other notes and cards, reading them one by one. There were the traditional cards from Hagrid, the Weasleys, Hermione and Lupin, as well as some from others, mainly DA members like Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom, but there was even one from Professor McGonagall and Mad-Eye Moody.
The gifts, which he still wasn't used to receiving, were even more thoughtful than usual this year. Hagrid, foregoing his usual treacle fudge, had sent Harry a special cloak made from the hide of a Hungarian Horntail dragon, like the one Harry had fought in his forth year, with a small note attached mentioning it was particularly good at repelling basic jinxes and such. The Weasleys had sent him a birthday cake, per usual. While Ron and Ginny had pooled their money to buy him a pair of quidditch goggles and package of chocolate frogs. The twins even remembered him, and sent him a box full of their best tricks and treats. It seemed that Remus, Tonks and Moody had pooled their monies as well, buying him a holster for his wand and a book of tips and things for those looking to be an Auror. But Harry didn't think anything could compare to Hermione's gift. Most would have considered it girly for a guy to actually like receiving jewelry, but the yellow and white gold chain that bore a topaz and ruby phoenix pendant was anything but girly. He snapped it on almost immediately after he got over his awe, making sure to hide it so that his aunt and uncle couldn't confiscate it. Harry couldn't imagine Hermione spending that much on him, as something like this certainly wasn't cheap.
Fawkes let out a trill to remind Harry of his presence, drawing a smile of pure happiness from him. "Alright, Fawkes. If you can wait, I'll write a letter to them all ok?" The bird just bobbed its head in a sort of nod, and flew from the desk chair over to the table, taking a sip of water from a glass Harry had left sitting there. Still smiling, Harry pulled out his parchment and quill that he had brought with him, and wrote a thank you to all of those who had remembered his birthday, taking special care in his letter to Hermione, making sure that she knew he was in complete awe of the gift. And when done, he wrapped the letters in the same twine that had been around one of his presents, and let Fawkes take them to Hogwarts for distribution.
It took him a good two hours to come down from the high he received from the contact with his friends and family, and sink back into the sullen state that he hated being in. When Dudley arrived back, not long into Harry's sulk, he glanced at his cousin, shaking his head when he saw the same blank look that was all too common these days. So, while tossing his swim shorts over the shower curtain rod in the bathroom, Dudley called out to Harry. "Hey, make yourself scarce, alright? I think one of the girls from the party is going to be calling. So go work out or whatever it is you do when you disappear, got it?"
While the message was said almost in passing, Harry looked up, frowning, then grabbed a pair of old warm-up pants and changed into them and, as his cousin asked, vacated the room, slipping the room key into his pocket. He traced the easily familiar path from the room to the hotel's gym in the basement level. He ran through the warm-up exercises he remembered from PE in grade school, never seeing the glances he attracted while doing so. And without a glance, set the weight on the bench press, and giving a nod when the trainer came over and asked if he was in need of a spotter. The smooth up and down motion of the weights slowed down the process of his mind, so that only the most basic of thoughts passed through. Push up, pull down, up, down, up, down…Breathe in, breathe out…up, in, down, out, up, in, down, out…
He was definitely on auto pilot, and it wasn't until the trainer bodily lifted the weights from Harry's hands and told him to go work on another machine that he even blinked. So, with a sigh, he walked over to one of the treadmills, setting it for a jogging speed, and a good 30 minutes of time. As he jogged, the thoughts that had fled his mind while using the bench press came back, but in a much more orderly fashion, allowing for him to deal with them easier. By the end of his jog (which was a good 3-4 miles in distance, as he had picked up the speed only a few minutes into it), he had worked through some of the problems he had. Naturally, the ones that remained were the ones that dealt with Sirius and his death and the prophecy. Harry didn't feel he had it in him to be a killer, to be honest, even if it was Voldemort. He'd rather see the man suffer, but what caused most people suffering delighted the dark lord. Perverse creature that he was, Voldemort didn't mind pain or anger. Like the dementors he 'employed,' Voldemort fed off such things, and it seemed that love was the only thing he really couldn't stand.
So the question becomes, how on earth could he, Harry Potter, use love…an uncontrollable substance at best, to defeat Voldemort when he himself had gone 10 years and then some without knowing the true meaning of it? But then again, Harry wasn't even sure that was even what the prophecy meant by "the power the dark lord knows not." Realizing he had been sitting at a rowing machine for a good 10 minutes now, Harry got up, stretching out his shoulders as he took a good look at the time, doing a double take when he realized it was already 10 o'clock. He gave a quick apology to the trainer who was waiting to close up, and took the route back to his room, his muscles aching for a nice long shower.
When he walked into the room, he rolled his eyes when he saw Dudley parked in front of the TV, eyes glued to the fuzzy at best picture from a porn channel that wasn't really supposed to be coming in at all unless subscribed to. And after grabbing a change of clothes, hopped into a steaming hot shower, almost groaning as he felt his muscles loosen up from their workout. It was a good 15 minutes later that he emerged into the steam filled bathroom, and wiped down the mirror to brush his teeth, wondering if he'd ever have a day where the nightmares of his sleep didn't slip into the waking hours of the day.
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August 4th -
Harry sighed as he watched Fawkes disappear again, taking more letters back to Hogwarts so they could be sent to various people. He hadn't really expected Dumbledore to allow him to use Fawkes as a sort of personal messenger, but the Headmaster had said simply that Fawkes seemed to enjoy the work, and he (Dumbledore) wasn't about to deny Harry's wish for contact with a few people back home. So, now almost daily, he wrote letters to Ginny, Luna and Neville, as well as Remus. After having received news that Ron and Hermione were dating, he had decided, perhaps selfishly to not write to them until he returned to Privet Drive in a little over 2 weeks. Ginny, despite her former crush on him, was willing to allow him to ramble about anything, and reminded him a little of Hermione in her hope to get him to open up more. As such, his letters to her were the longest, and he knew she'd keep any secret of his if he wanted her to.
Then there was Neville, of course. The boy was finally being allowed to watch and go to some of the Quidditch matches, and kept Harry fully informed on all of the teams, not just the Cannons as Ron might have done. He apologized profusely for not being more help in the Department of Mysteries the year before, for which he had gotten a good lecture from Harry, insisting that if not for Neville, things might have gone a good deal differently. He had shown his Gryffindor courage that night, for certain.
And Luna…despite her reputation as a crazy girl, the fact was, she was every bit a Ravenclaw; full of intelligence and shrewd advice. She'd rattle on for a bit about the newest creature her father was after, then switch gears, talking Harry through his grief about Sirius with little antidotes about her and her father after the loss of her mother. The fact that he really wasn't alone was more of a comfort than Harry had thought it might be. And in turn, he'd tell her about Marseilles, and the muggle world, which she seemed as fascinated with it as Mr. Weasley. Or perhaps tell her about his own life growing up; nothing too serious, but just little things that his other friends knew that she didn't. Yet there were no words of pity from her in reply, and no curses towards his family. Instead, she took it in stride, saying that 'its not the load that breaks you, its how you carry it', and obviously he carried his load well.
It was the letters to Remus that were the hardest. Their mutual loss of a good friend was still a raw wound, and talking about Sirius to each other was almost like pouring salt into that wound. So the letters were more about their respective summers, with only the slightest of mentions about Sirius or Grimmauld Place. Remus did say that Kreacher had beheaded himself with the permission of Mrs. Black's portrait, which came as a huge relief to Harry. He couldn't imagine the idea of that elf staying alive after his actions had caused so much pain.
He had received a letter from the Ministry notifying Harry that the new Minister of Magic, Amos Diggory, had appointed two new legal guardians for him. Amos himself had explained that while he would have liked to have given sole "custody" of Harry to Remus Lupin, due to the current Wizarding laws, the werewolf was seen by the law as unable to fulfill the roll. As such, Remus was only a secondary guardian, with Albus Dumbledore himself serving as Harry's "real" legal guardian. That meant that Dumbledore, until Harry's next birthday, would take care of any assets that Harry acquired due to the death of Sirius Black, Grimmauld Place included. Harry could only imagine the look on Ron's face when he realized that Harry was even more rich now, thanks to the Black family fortune that he had inherited. Then again, Mrs. Black would likely be livid at the fact that the laws at the time of her death had forced all assets that would have gone to Regalus Black, Sirius' brother, had gone to Sirius after all…despite his "exile" from the family. But at the same time, Harry couldn't care less about what the old, drooling portrait thought.
And with the vacation coming to a speedy close, Harry's days were spent almost all the same. Time with the Dursleys at meals, an occasional shopping trip with his aunt and/or Dudley, evenings in the hotel gym, and the daily letters to Ginny and others. There was, of course, the two times he got to go to some event he actually liked (including a muggle rock concert held by Jon Bon Jovi). But his favorite time was the time alone in the hotel room, spent bent over a spiral notebook, scribbling away.
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August 18th, At the Burrow (2 days before Harry's return to Privet Drive) -
"GINERVA WEALSEY!"
The voice of her older brother Ron echoed down the stairs, causing everyone in the house to turn their heads swiftly towards the sound. Ginny, however, kept her head low over her plate of lunch, ignoring the look her mother shot her way. And it wasn't until Ron's footsteps thundered down the stairs that she even acknowledged that she knew he was looking for her. A second set of footsteps followed Ron's, at a much slower pace, mind you, indicating that Hermione was with him yet again. Ron burst through into the kitchen, blue eyes blazing in anger as he waved a piece of parchment in front of his sister's nose.
"Just when in the bloody hell were you planning on telling me that Harry was writing you, hmm?!"
At the mention of Harry writing to her, Ginny's red head snapped up, the shocked look on her face quickly changing to one of anger as she snatched the parchment away from Ron and hugged it to her like a prized possession. "And just what on earth were you doing snooping in my room, Ron?!" Ginny asked, purposefully ignoring her brother's question.
"Ginny," the calm voice of Hermione broke in, "he wasn't snooping. I was looking for some parchment to write on, and came across it by accident. Ron just happened to come in while I was looking at it. So don't blame him."
Ginny's eyes turned to Hermione, narrowing. "Wouldn't you have enough parchment in your trunk? I know you bought over a dozen rolls in Diagon Alley a few days ago."
Hermione sighed. "I didn't want to use any of that if there was a scrap laying around I could use. I was just going to send a short note to my parents." She met Ginny's glare head on. "I'm sorry, ok?"
Ron rolled his eyes, and slammed a fist on the table. "You still haven't answered me, Ginny. How long has Harry been writing to you?!"
Ginny's brown eyes turned again to her brother. "What business is it of yours? He was the one who started the letters after all…and they're addressed to me, not you."
"That's the bloody problem. I'm supposed to be his best mate, and yet he hasn't responded to a single letter that Hermione or I have sent him, aside from that thank you note for his gifts."
"Well, you told him you and Hermione were dating, right?"
"Right…"
"Think about it you idiot. Harry feels left out! The trio is now a duo. Where in the hell does he fit in if you're dating Hermione? So its natural he'd try and make a few new friends. Besides…there are some things you just don't understand Ron…"
"Like what? Just what in the hell do I not understand?! Hmm? Enlighten me why don't you!"
"Voldemort."
It was a simple word, but the effect it had on the room was more than that. Ron's face went ashen at the reminder of his sister's previous encounter with the Dark Lord. Hermione went still, her mind swimming through the possible meanings of such an answer. While at the sink, Mrs. Weasley, who had been silent up until this point, let out a small shriek and dropped a plate to the floor. She had tried to forget that Ginny had been taken over for a while by Voldemort…but hearing her daughter say the creature's name made it all too real again. But Ginny sat there in silence, brown eyes scanning the three others, no hint of emotion on her face.
Finally, Ron regained his voice. "What…what do you mean by that?"
Ginny stood slowly, eyes now glued on her brother as she advanced on him. "You don't know what he can do, not really. You've never experienced the type of power he has…never felt it running through you, scaring you with the darkness of his soul. You'll never feel the pure hatred he has for anything good and innocent. But I know. I've felt it. I've seen it." Her voice dropped to somewhere just above a whisper as she stood face to face with Ron. "Harry knows it, too. He's felt it. He's seen it. No one else can understand it Ron. No one." Her voice raised back to normal. "Being possessed by Voldemort…it's the worst feeling in the world…but at the same time, it's the best. Feeling that type of power in your fingertips…Merlin." She shook her head. "I'd never wish such a thing on anyone, Ron. Because while the magic is amazing, the things your soul goes through when he's possessing you is beyond torture…He's pure evil, Ron. And there's still a tiny piece of him in me…in Harry. Its what makes us who we are. But pray Ron…pray hard that you never feel it…can never understand it. I sure as hell wish I couldn't."
And with that, she brushed past him, Harry's letter still clutched in her hand, taking the stairs two at a time. While her family stood in the kitchen, thinking hard on what she had said.
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August 21st -
Three days later, Hermione laid in her bed in Ginny's room, staring up at the ceiling. Ginny's confession had scared her…as well as Ron and Mrs. Weasley. But they were only scared for Ginny. Hermione was scared for Harry. With that little bit of knowledge of what Harry must have gone through, she worried about him even more. Especially now that it had been four days since Harry's last letter to Ginny…the same one that she had found while looking for a spare bit of parchment. Hermione wasn't sure if she was glad that she had managed to read the letter before Ron snatched it away or not, now that the dust had settled around the Burrow, so to speak.
But the dust hadn't settled in Hermione's mind. Her thoughts still ran circles around each other, never slowing enough for her to really think each one through as she was used to. The only thing that stuck, really, was a particular string of sentences in the letter Harry had sent to Ginny. Because, unless she had read it wrong, which was highly doubtful, as Harry was known for his sometimes blunt way of putting things. And this time was no exception.
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Ginny,
I know what you think I should do about the problem I'm having, but I just can't do what you recommended. If I was to tell her…Merlin. That would ruin everything, Gin. Everything. And you know that loosing her would kill me. I've told you about how I got when she last got injured because of me. Maybe someday I can tell her, but not now. She's happy, I think, with him. I can't ruin that. I won't.
As to your other question, yes, things are okay. Well…as good as can be expected. Dudley's still paying up, and I had to raise the price after his last mess up. I swear he's the world's biggest idiot, in more ways than one. But I'm not planning on telling Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia anyway. Why would they believe me? I don't think he's realized that all he'd have to do is call me a liar and they'd punish me, and it'd be done.
Other than that, lil sis of mine, you're on your own for a while. With the vacation wrapping up and school nearing, I've got a lot to do, and I'm sure the Dursleys are gonna run me ragged with chores when we return to Privet Drive. Keep your chin up, Gin. And remember what I said about you-know-who…
Love from your "adopted" big brother,
Harry
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Hermione might have been able to deal with the fact that Harry was writing to Ginny and not her if not for the fact that it was extremely obvious that Harry had told Ginny secrets that she, herself, was not privy to. After all, Harry had seemed to be completely over Cho the year before, so the "she" Harry mentioned was a new interest, obviously. The oddest part was, it wasn't just not knowing that bugged her. It was the fact that he was interested in anyone at all, really. She had spent the past few years thinking of him as "her Harry," and that was obviously a very hard habit to break.
Thank goodness Ron wasn't asking any more questions. Ginny's outburst had left him somewhat subdued, and he had made a comment, in passing, that he couldn't wait to see Harry again. When questioned on it, he had said simply that he had some things he had to talk out with his brother.
Sighing, Hermione rose from the bed, and walked over to Ginny's desk, grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill on her way by her trunk. Slipping into the desk chair, she cast a glance at the closed door, making sure it was in fact still closed. Once satisfied, she turned, inking the quill before scratching out a letter in her usual neat script.
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Harry,
Its been weeks since I've last heard from you, and I'm getting worried. I recently found that you've been writing Ginny, but even she hasn't heard from you for a few days. I understand if you're busy getting ready for school, but maybe we can meet in Diagon Alley or something and talk. The Burrow isn't the same without you around. I swear, Ron hasn't stopped complaining that Ginny is the only person to play Quidditch with. Its almost funny, actually.
But more than that, I want to know what's been going on with you on vacation and all. I also have something of a confession to make. I found one of t he latest letters you sent Ginny and read it.. She's been burning most of them, I think, but hadn't gotten to this one yet. You mentioned a girl…and it seems like you really like her. And…maybe I'm being overly sensitive, but…I thought we were best friends, Harry. So why not tell me about this girl? Surely you don't have a reason to worry. What girl wouldn't love to be with you?
I'm sorry if you feel like I've intruded on your private conversations with Ginny, but…I had to let you know. Friends shouldn't keep secrets, right? Besides, I know you hate being kept in the dark about things, and this was my fault. Hope that everything's going good, and please, please write me back, ok?
XXXXXXX's (hugs!) from
Hermione
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August 30th, At Privet Drive -
It had been 8 days ago that he had received the letter from Hermione, and 6 days since he had responded brusquely, insisting that what she wanted to know he could NOT send by Owl post. Sending things with Fawkes with personal information like he had written to Ginny was dangerous enough. But none the less, Harry felt horrible about having to say such a thing to Hermione. Just because what he had told her was true didn't mean he had to feel any better about it.
The sound of the doorbell roused Harry from his thoughts, and he turned from the counter where he stood, finishing up the breakfast dishes, moving into the hallway to pull open the front door. And while he had been expecting one of Dudley's friends or something, seeing Remus Lupin standing outside the door with a tired smile on his face hadn't been expected. None the less, Harry stepped forward, pulling his godfather into a hug, a feeling of relief slipping through him. He hadn't received a letter from Remus in days, due to Order business that the werewolf had been attending to, and worry over him had been a constant for Harry since.
If Remus had been surprised to be on the receiving end of a hug from Harry, he didn't let it stop or delay him from hugging the teen back. Truth be told, he had been worried about Harry too. While the loss of Sirius was, of course, hard on him, Harry had been beyond devastated last Remus heard, and to find that the boy…correction, young man, was for the most part ok, was a great relief. When the two released each other, Harry's face broke into a smile, as he stepped aside, motioning for Remus to come into the house.
"The Dursleys are all out of the house, so its safe." He smirked, now closing the door behind his godfather before walking back into the kitchen. When Remus sat down at the kitchen table, Harry turned to the counter where he had placed the clean dishes, and started mechanically putting them into the cupboards where they went. "What brings you here anyway?" There was a pause. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, but…had to ask."
"Well, you did ask to see me before you left didn't you? I finished up my business yesterday, and thought I'd come by. Moody was going to do the check on you, but I talked him into letting me." Remus looked up at Harry, grinning. "He did tell me to tell you that he hopes you were vigilant in France…something about dark wizards being all over the place and what not."
Harry laughed. "Sounds like Moody." Sliding the last glass into the cupboard, he sighed, then slid into a chair as well, leaning back casually as he had seen Sirius do before. "Did you get to do anything with that mirror I sent you?"
"Oh…glad you reminded me." Remus said, sliding a bag out of the muggle jacket he was wearing, then enlarging it before handing it to Harry. "I found the second mirror up in Buckbeak's room, so I figured you could use them. The Order doesn't have a use for them, but…if there's someone you want to be able to talk to easier, then now you've got a way."
Harry looked at the bag for a moment, the looked up at Remus, nodding. "I think I know of someone I might want to talk to." He gave a small smile. "Thanks, Remus. I appreciate you bringing that over." He paused, fiddling with the bag for a moment. Then his eyes cut up to Remus'. "So…how long do you have to spare today?"
Frowning, Remus raised an eyebrow before smiling. "Well, all day if you need me for something."
Harry smiled back. "I was kinda hoping we could get outta here for a while. The Dursleys won't be back till tonight, and all the chores they wanted me to do while they were gone are done. None of them really took that long."
Remus eyed Harry critically for a minute, taking in the hand me down clothes he wore. "I think I can manage that, but on one condition."
"What?"
"You let me floo Tonks and get her to go with us. You're looking worse than I do, Harry." He laughed. "You've got plenty of money in Gringotts, and I say we switch some to muggle and get you some new clothes. I may not really have an eye for such a thing, but that's why Tonks can come with."
Harry laughed, then nodded. "Go ahead and Floo Tonks. I'm kinda outgrowing the legs on these pants of Dudley's anyway. He's always been wider than tall anyhow."
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August 30th, evening -
That night, Harry laid on his bed, headphones blaring more of the rock music that he was fast becoming addicted to. The bed that had once been of an adequate length was now barely holding his 6' frame, leaving his feet to almost dangle off of the end when he slept. More often than not, he woke up, half on the bed and half off, with an ache in his legs from the awkward position. Sighing, Harry closed his eyes, focusing on the lyrics of the song playing, loving how they somehow put how he felt into words. But as his eyes closed, a flash of white at his window had them opening again, looking blearily towards the disturbance.
His owl, Hedwig was fluttering outside, a dead mouse clutched in her beak. So, with a sigh, Harry turned off the CD player and hauled himself off of the bed to push the window open. Hedwig dropped the mouse into her cage, turning her head briefly to give an indignant hoot at having to wait so long to be allowed back inside. With a small smile, Harry stroked her feathers lightly. "Sorry, girl. Just got distracted."
The apology seemed to pacify the owl for the moment, and she turned back to her kill, pecking at it when it squirmed just a bit as the last bit of life left it. Shaking his head, Harry turned, planning on slipping his headphones back on when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. His almost nightly workouts in the hotel gym had done him a world of good, as had the proper meals, turning his once rather childish build into a lean physique that he was sure would serve him well in Quidditch and in duels. And thanks to hours in the sun, window shopping with his aunt, as well as time spent by and in the hotel pool allowed pale skin to take on a healthy tanned glow that brought out the emerald of his eyes and contrasted with his raven hair.
But in the midst of it all, his lightning bolt scar was still pale, making it more obvious than ever, despite his bangs. The other scar on his currently shirtless body was on the crook of his right arm, another reminder of the Dark wizard Harry had been both death and life to. While there were other scars present on his body, the two that were connected directly to Voldemort were the ones he wished gone above all else. They were nothing more than reminders of all he lost, primarily his parents, but Sirius, a friend in Cedric, and the chance of an actually worth while childhood were forever gone as well.
Closing his eyes against memories, Harry pulled desperately into the more fond thoughts he had, clinging to one of Hermione earlier that summer. Eyes bright, smile wide, and arms wide open, ready to hug him, she had shown up at his front door when promised, under pretense of just picking up the things Hedwig would need for a summer at the Grangers'. And it was then Harry had realized how much he counted on her. Not just at school. She was the only calming influence he had in his life at the Dursleys. Anything he did, he could hear her response to the action or words in his head. She was his conscience, and his rock. And Harry Potter would have it no other way.
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A/N: Well, that's the end of the revised Prologue. I know its long, but I like it a LOT better than the old one. J So please leave a review and let me know what you think!
(1) - "So Far Away" - Staind